


Yet Grand Is The Destiny

by flamingosarepink



Series: The Feeling Itself [1]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, An AU in which Charles is a violin virtuoso, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, There is also a brief flashback scene with Jules, This is what happens when I read about stolen Stradivarius violins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21816718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamingosarepink/pseuds/flamingosarepink
Summary: “That’s the problem,” Charles responds with something akin to a groan. “I’m not sure if I want to be a concert musician anymore."
Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen
Series: The Feeling Itself [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1625272
Comments: 8
Kudos: 42





	Yet Grand Is The Destiny

**Author's Note:**

  * For [singlemalter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/singlemalter/gifts).

> Title comes from a quote by Franz Liszt.

“I remember hearing about that,” Max begins as Charles shifts in his arms uncomfortably, not knowing if it is because of how he suddenly feels too warm under the covers or from the subject at hand. “Your godfather’s violin being stolen from his dressing room at Carnegie Hall, only for it to disappear into thin air.” He doesn’t bother mentioning what happened mere weeks later, wrapping an arm around Charles to bring him closer. “Do you honestly think they’ll ever find it?” The question is loaded, and its one that Charles finds he doesn’t particularly want to ponder on. 

He exhales sharply attempting to hide his face in Max’s neck, countering the Dutchman’s query with one of his own. “How many stolen Stradivarius violins are still out there?” The question is sealed with a kiss in the exact same spot he christened with a bruise with a hint of teeth moments before, which elicits a soft intake of breath from Max. 

“Too many.” is Max’s reply before Charles finds himself once again on his back, arms pinned over his head. 

\- - - - - 

_“It’s going to be yours one day, I know it.” Jules says matter of factly as he opens the case on the desk in his study, the rain falling steadily with clouds a deep grey casting a gloomy air over the normally endless blue of the marina outside. Charles is sitting on the floor, back against a bookcase and his thoughts occupied by other things that don’t include comments on his immediate future. Absentmindedly, his eyes have drifted towards the window outside and how the rain has started to fall seemingly harder. _

_ “I’m not so sure about that.” He responds, simple and short._

_ “You play as good if not better than any of those other kids trying to get into Juilliard, Charles. Trust me. This violin is meant to be yours.” Charles’s wandering mind is brought back down to earth by the opening notes of the Chaconne by Bach, and suddenly all he can do is listen._

\- - - - - 

“Do you have any idea about what you’re going to do now?” Max asks, reading the indecision in Charles’s eyes as they walk along the familiar way of the Monaco street, few passersby around them making things feel almost eerily too quiet for Charles’s liking. 

“That’s the problem,” Charles responds with something akin to a groan. “I’m not sure if I want to be a concert musician anymore. It’s just-“ He feels Max’s fingers lace with his, a gentle squeeze follows and ever so slightly his nerves deflate. “I don’t love the idea as much as I used to. Everyone says I could easily work at the shop, with the aim of becoming a dealer. It might not be up to the expectations people had for me, but at this point I’d rather work around the violins rather than ever play one on the stage _ever_ again.” The familiar facade of the violin shop comes into view, and it isn’t long before the two of them are at the door. It’s a rarity on any given day when he walks into the shop that there isn’t someone at the front desk to greet him, let alone that he hears voices animatedly talking from the back room in the process. It all feels very strange.

At the sound of the bell over the door sounding, Charles’s mother appears rather quickly. The look on her face makes it seem as if whatever is happening is too important for Charles to not entertain. “We’ll meet up later, don’t worry about it.” Max says before leaving again. 

What happens next is a whirlwind. “This might come as a shock, but you’ll want to see this.” Her voice is brimming with excitement, and part of Charles just wishes that she would tell him why. However, things become a little bit more clearer once she leads him down the hallway to the back room where normally, they bring people to play the violins which are too precious for just anyone. On the table in the middle of the room is a familiar case, and suddenly Charles can’t will himself against moving closer. Once he opens the case with shaking fingers and sees the violin inside perfectly unharmed, he can’t help but wonder where it could have been all this time.

**Author's Note:**

> A few months ago, I had been reading a biography of the luthier Antonio Stradivari when in the process of doing so there was a mention of a man with the last name of Bianchi, who was a violin dealer in Nice. It came as a bit of a shock to me, and today while listening to the Chaconne by Bach I was struck with an idea. This fic was that idea, and I just want to thank Malter for listening to me talk about what a crazy coincidence this was a few months ago. The story of the violin itself mirrors the story of the Huberman Stradivarius, which was also stolen from Carnegie Hall and not recovered until many years after the death of its owner. it is currently owned and played by one of my favorite violinists who has owned it since his early twenties. 
> 
> _“Mournful and yet grand is the destiny of the artist.”_ \- Franz Liszt


End file.
